The Reawakening of Arthur Pendragon
by isetfiretopeople
Summary: Every year on the anniversary of their wedding Martin and Brenda Tucker take a trip to their favourite lake. This year is no different. However, when the couple find a young man claiming to be King Arthur washed ashore things get very strange very quickly.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One.

Martin and Brenda Tucker had been married for forty-five years. It had become routine for the couple that on the anniversary of their wedding they would stroll along the lakeside before settling under their favourite tree for a picnic.

This year the day started much like it did every year. Brenda set about preparing a feast of sandwiches and cakes to take with them before donning a pretty but practical dress. Martin's job was to stay out of the way and to make sure he looked presentable. He stood in front of the mirror in an attempt to choose which shirt best went with his new trousers. It didn't matter what he chose he mused to himself. He would still probably end up changing his shirt three times before Brenda was fully satisfied.

By midmorning the couple were ready. They left the house hand in hand. Martin, as usual, insisted on carrying the basket despite Brenda's pleas to let her help. Martin shook his head "I want this to be perfect," he would say "Just like our first date," Brenda would sigh, knowing perfectly well that (and Martin would never admit it) he was not as strong as he was back then.

True to Martin's word the day was perfect. Even the weather played along in recreating the day they had met all those years ago. The sun warmed their skin as they walked and a slight breeze fluttered through their hair. Brenda smiled to herself. The couple walked idly swapping memories of years gone by. Martin was half way through telling his favourite story when the lake finally came into view. He was telling the one where he first laid eyes on Brenda. Brenda had always enjoyed hearing his version of events. Every time he retold it things became wilder and more fantastical. Martin did like to exaggerate.

Brenda's breath hitched in her throat though this time it was not due to the events of Martin's story. Nor was it due to the beauty of the scenery surrounding her. As her eyes focussed on the lake she noticed something was amiss.

"There's someone in the water!" she blurted out.

Martin stopped abruptly. Sure enough there was a young man floating in the water looking quite lifeless. All details of the story he had been telling left his mind. Without thinking and without realising what he was doing Martin had set off running. He dropped the picnic basket, spilling Brenda's banquet at their feet. He raced as fast as his legs would carry him until he was in the water, splashing around next to the body.

"Be careful Martin!" he heard Brenda calling faintly.

He flung his arms around the young man and started dragging towards the shore. He didn't know if the man was conscious. He didn't even know if he was alive. All that mattered was that he got him back onto dry land. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He felt as young and as fit as he had done on his wedding day. What a great story this would make to tell next year!

The young man kept bobbing underneath the surface. Something was weighing him down. With a jolt Martin realised the young man was wearing some kind of armour. Even more unnerving he was carrying a sword. Martin struggled to free the sword from the man's grip but it was too difficult and he felt himself going under. Instead he once again focussed his energy on reaching the edge f the water.

Brenda was stood at the edge shouting something unintelligible. It looked like a small crowd had gathered, watching in anticipation. After what seemed like a lifetime Martin had dragged the young man to the edge of the water. He ached all over but his job was not over yet.

"Does anybody know CPR?" he called into the crowd. No one stepped forward. It looked like it was down to Martin again. He set about doing what he could remember seeing on TV hoping desperately that he was doing it right.

Martin carried on for what seemed like an eternity. This was more exhausting than being in the water. Still there was no response. He was starting to lose hope. He couldn't stop though. Not until an ambulance arrived. He exchanged a look with Brenda as he continued pumping. She said nothing but laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Martin's thoughts were interrupted by a small groan and a faint cough. Martin stopped pumping. The young man's eyes fluttered open as he rolled onto his side and emptied the contents of his stomach and lungs onto the grass.

Martin couldn't help but let out a laugh. Relief washed over him. "He's awake!"

Arthur was confused. He was surrounded by a black fog. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing. His eyelids were too heavy to open. If he listened carefully he could hear muffled voices somewhere above his head.

He could feel a pressure on his chest. As if someone was rhythmically punching his sternum. He tried to lift his arm to force back whatever was attacking him but found himself somewhat paralysed. Instead he tried to speak. Rather than words all that came out was a weak watery cough. The pressure on his chest stopped and the world around him buzzed. Once he'd started coughing he couldn't stop. Against his will something rolled him onto his side. A foul tasting liquid poured from his mouth as he choked and spluttered.

Eventually the coughing stopped as the liquid had emptied itself from his stomach and airways. He flopped back and finally found the energy to open his eyes. It took a while for Arthur to focus on the scene around him. There was an old man bent directly above him. His rather large nose only an inch or so from Arthur's own. There was also an old woman hovering anxiously over the man's shoulder. He was vaguely aware of other movement and voices around.

"He's awake!" the man called out in an accent Arthur couldn't place. "You gave us quite a scare laddie. What's yer name?"

As Arthur tried to sit up he felt the pain in his head intensify. "Arthur," he croaked. His peripheral vision was dark and blurry and he could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness again.

"What happened to you?" it was the woman that spoke this time.

That was a good question. What had happened? The last thing Arthur remembered was his manservant holding him tightly.

"Where's Merlin?" he tried to ask but his voice was little more than a whisper.

If the couple had heard the question they chose to ignore it.

"You relax. Help is on its way,"

With that Arthur let his head fall back and was once more consumed by darkness.

Merlin sat up in bed, gasping for breath. The sheet beneath him was drenched with sweat. His vision blurred slightly and Merlin realised he was crying. He'd always suffered from nightmares. These past few nights, however, the dreams had become more vivid. More realistic. It always started the same way: Arthur was trapped and was calling for Merlin. No matter what Merlin tried he would be unable to reach his King until eventually Arthur would slip away, lost forever. He always woke up with a great sense of loss, as if every night he lost Arthur all over again.

Merlin desperately wiped at the tears in his eyes wishing that there was some way he could be reunited with his friend. He dwelled on all of his past attempts. The scars on his body serving as a harsh reminder of this never ending torture. Reminders that no matter how hard he tried Merlin would not die.

Ever since Arthur had gone Merlin had felt like half a person. There was a deep emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He felt utterly useless. Like there was no point in carrying on. And there was no point. He had failed his destiny. He had let Arthur die and the idea of Albion had died with him. The only thing this feeling was comparable to was the feeling Merlin got when he lost his magic. A piece of him was missing. Merlin rubbed at a particularly nasty scar running down his wrist. So much time had passed that he more or less had lost hope that Arthur was ever going to return. No matter what the dragon had once said.

He swung his legs round to the side of the bed and pulled on yesterday's clothes. He couldn't be bothered to wash. There was no point. He couldn't be bothered to do anything. Every day Merlin found himself just going through the motions. He caught sight of his reflection. Merlin's body had much remained the same as it was back in Camelot though there was a certain tiredness in his eyes that reflected his true age. He studied his face resenting the fact that he had not grown old with his friends. He often disguised himself as an old man, an act that made him feel a little better about himself. However the effort it took was draining.

As Merlin pondered the meaning of his existence a thought struck him. Perhaps he was still alive for a reason. He was a pawn in destiny's giant game of chess. Perhaps there was a chance, however small, that he would still be able to fulfil his purpose. He shook his head tore himself away from the mirror. He had a strange feeling in his gut. Suddenly he didn't feel as empty as before. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. It couldn't be? Could it.

Merlin rushed to complete his morning routine of aging himself. He had often visited Arthur's final resting place. At first in hope that he'd find Arthur had risen again but as the years passed the visits became more habit than anything else. Today, however, something was different. Merlin had a funny feeling and Merlin knew from experience that his funny feelings were not to be ignored.

When Merlin arrived at the lake there was quite a commotion. A small crowd had gathered around a lifeless body on the floor. As he drew closer a couple of paramedics lifted the body into an ambulance. Merlin's stomach tightened as he saw a mop of golden hair. A slight glimpse of… was that chainmail? He rushed forward but the doors had already been closed.

"Arthur!" he shouted after the retreating ambulance.

An old man with a blanket draped around his shoulders approached "You know him?"

Merlin pondered the question "I did," he finally answered "A long time ago,"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone that took the time to favourite, follow or review my previous chapter. I've taken a long hiatus (about 3 or 4 years) from writing and this is my first Merlin fanfic so I wasn't expecting much. I really appreciate any feedback I receive and I thrive on constructive criticism so please fire away! I hope you all enjoy chapter two. _

Chapter Two.

Martin and Brenda sat in the waiting room at the hospital. They had followed the ambulance after a brief exchange with some of the other witnesses. Upon Brenda's insistence Martin had been thoroughly checked and was declared fit and healthy if a little exhausted. Brenda rubbed the back of Martin's hand with her thumb.

"Despite your stupidity, I'm really proud of you," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about lunch" Martin replied. He knew it sounded stupid. After everything that had happened that morning but he couldn't help but feel guilty. Brenda had slaved away for hours over that picnic. Besides, he had to admit, he'd been looking forward to a slice of Victoria sponge all morning.

Brenda sighed "Don't worry about that. You saved a young man's life. That's what matters"

They lapsed into silence once more. It was certainly the most eventful anniversary they had experienced. Martin didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. On one hand he was a hero. On the other all of their plans had gone down the drain. Brenda did not seem to mind. She was thankful that her husband was alright.

"Mr and Mrs Tucker?" A doctor called from the doorway "May I have a word?"

The doctor led the couple into a deserted hallway. They came to a stop outside a door that was slightly ajar.

"The young man appears to be in a stable condition," the doctor informed them. "He is still unconscious but is responding positively to tests,"

Both Brenda and Martin let out a breath of relief. The doctor carried on. "You said Arthur woke up previously to tell you his name?"

Martin nodded. "Yes,"

"Is there any more information you might be able to provide? We'd like to be able to track his next of kin,"

"Well, my hearing ain't what it used to be," Martin started ignoring the worried glance from Brenda. "But just for a second I could have sworn he'd mumbled something that sounded like 'Merlin',"

Brenda shook her head and the doctor held back a smile. Martin had shared his speculation with his wife. She had just shaken her head in that bemused way she did when Martin was getting carried away with his stories. Perhaps she thought that Martin was just telling stories again. He had to admit stretching the truth to make things seem a little more interesting at times. Not this time though. The young man had definitely woken up, declared himself to be Arthur and then asked for Merlin. Either that or Martin was finally losing the plot.

"Just saying what I heard" Martin shrugged.

The doctor looked down at his notes. "A young man, claiming his name is Arthur washes up on shore. Wearing armour no less," he chuckled "and he's asking for someone named Merlin? It's going to be an interesting day,"

"Hello," A voice drifted through the door next to them.

"Excuse me," The doctor jumped and rushed into the room "Ah! You're awake!"

Martin and Brenda turned to one another. Martin didn't know what to say. Finally Brenda spoke. "Reckon he's all there?" she pointed to her head.

Martin considered the question and shrugged again. It was hard to say. The lad had been barely conscious when he'd muttered those words. If it wasn't for his attire Martin might have thought the boy had been dreaming. After a moment he answered Brenda's question:

"Explain his clothes. And his sword,"

It was Brenda's turn to shrug. "Maybe he's part of one of those role playing groups. Or an actor,"

Martin nodded. Often, he found it best to agree with his wife. That way he stayed out of trouble. As Martin considered the issue more he remembered something else. There was the old bearded man at the lake. He had shouted Arthur's name as he was loaded into the ambulance. He had looked positively distraught. Martin had spoken to him briefly "_Do you know him_?" and the answer "_I did. A long time ago_,"

The next time Arthur awoke he was much more comfortable. In fact, he realised, he was in bed. Disjointed fragments of memories came rushing back to him. Each memory was jostling for attention and each one making less sense than the previous fragment. There had been a battle. Mordred was there. Mordred had wounded him. Then there was Merlin. Merlin had struggled to get Arthur to safety. And the words "_I'm a sorcerer. I have magic"_. They echoed through Arthurs head, circling his mind and making him dizzy. He felt strangely sick. It must have been a dream. How absurd it all was. Arthur smiled to himself. At least everything was back to normal. Here he was in his comfortable bed. He wondered idly how long Merlin would be with his breakfast.

After a few minutes Arthur lazily opened his eyes. Realisation hit as he noticed the unfamiliar surroundings. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. This was not his bed. Arthur could not recall seeing a room so clean or so white. Was this heaven? Was he dead? He recalled the dream in which he had been stabbed by Mordred's blade.

He smoothed the sheets around him. The material felt strange to touch. It was unlike anything he was used to back home. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. There were voices somewhere nearby. Whoever it was were talking in hushed tones as if not to be overheard. Maybe they would be the answer to all of his questions. They would be able to lead him back home. Back to Merlin and Gwen and away from this strange place.

"Hello?" Arthur took a chance and called out.

The voices went quiet for a second, followed by more hushed whispering then a man a few years older than Arthur walked into the room. He was wearing a long white coat and had a strange metal device around his neck. Everything about him was strange. Again, his attire was unlike anything Arthur had ever seen. He must have travelled some distance to find somewhere so completely and utterly different to Camelot.

"Ah, you're awake"

Merlin wanted to do nothing more than to curl up into a ball on the ground and scream. Scream Arthur's name into the sky. It was as if fate was playing some cruel joke. It was luring Merlin with small glimmers of hope only to snatch them away at the last second. Merlin had seen Arthur and once more Arthur had been taken away.

He watched the old man he'd just spoken to also be whisked away by the woman he was with. Merlin kicked himself for not asking for more information. It was too much to take in. He shook his head and wiped at the tears threatening to spill out. He had to be reasonable. Arthur was alive. At least he hoped he was. It wasn't a good sign that he was being carted off in an ambulance. There was only one way to find out.

Merlin turned on his heel, walking as fast as his old legs would carry him. The aging spell drained him both physically and emotionally as well as replicating the typical ailments that came with being old. His knees creaked as he walked but he knew he must power through it. For Arthur. He smiled without humour, remembering the old times when he would walk days on end to protect his King. It seemed even though many years had passed some things always stayed the same.

After about half an hour of walking it occurred to Merlin that it would have been much quicker to call a taxi. He kept his eyes peeled for a payphone but they seemed obsolete now everybody had mobile phones. He'd never bothered with modern technology, mobile phones included. Who was there to speak to anyway? All of his friends were long gone. Besides, Merlin could always fall back on his magic in times of need. For the second time that day, he mentally kicked himself and carried on. He couldn't afford to slow down now. He carried on along the road, retreating into his thoughts.

What would happen to Arthur at the hospital? Did he remember who he was? What would the doctors say if Arthur started declaring himself the King? And what would Arthur do when he saw all the new technologies? Surely he would think it some kind of witchcraft. But of course in the modern world, most people no longer believed in magic. A wave of nausea hit as he realised what was going to happen. The doctors would think Arthur insane. They would think him crazy; suffering from delusions, from hallucinations and from paranoia. They would drug him up; send him to therapy or worse. Then what would happen? Merlin didn't want to think of the repercussions of Arthur being taught that his memories were not real. It might mean losing him all over again.

Merlin broke out into a run. He was nearly there. He would make it before sunset. He would find Arthur and they would return to Merlin's apartment to live happily ever after. Yes. That was what would happen.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you again to anyone that responded to my previous chapters. Whether it be a review, a favourite or a follow. I really appreciate it.

Chapter Three.

Arthur looked up at the white coated man in front of him. Everything about him was completely wrong. He didn't look anything like what Arthur associated with sorcery. But then again he didn't look anything like any normal man Arthur had ever seen either.

"Are you a sorcerer?" Arthur blurted out. His head was still extremely foggy. Nothing was making sense. In Arthur's mind it was the only possible explanation for the man's strange attire and the peculiar artefacts surrounding Arthur's bed.

The man chucked lightly "I wish. My name is Dr Holden. I'm going to be looking after you during your stay here,"

Arthur relaxed somewhat. The stranger was a doctor. Surely that was a good thing. Especially if he was helping Arthur to get better. There was a friendly and somewhat comforting tone to Dr Holden's voice. Arthur felt safe despite the strange setting.

"Would you be able to tell me your name?"

"Arthur Pendragon" Arthur's throat hurt as he spoke.

"Arthur Pendragon. As in King of Camelot?" Dr Holden's voice retained its soft warmth but there was a slight tone of disbelief. Arthur figured that the doctor would never expect to be treating royalty.

"That is correct,"

"Okay," he scribbled something on the strangest looking parchment Arthur had ever seen. "Is there anyone I can contact? Let them know you're safe,"

"Send word to my wife, Guinevere," Arthur instructed, realising for the first time that she wouldn't know where he was. She must have been beside herself with worry.

The doctor nodded, making another quick scribble. "Is there anyone else?" he gave a quick sideways glance. "A carer maybe?"

Arthur noticed the doctor was somewhat uneasy. Perhaps he was nervous to be treating someone so important. No. It was more as if he was hiding something. Arthur thought for a second. "Please contact my manservant. His name is Merlin,"

Yet more scribbles. "Okay. Would it be okay if we performed some tests? To- ah-" Dr Holden faulted slightly "to check your progress?"

Martin and Brenda had waited around for a short while longer. After a few minutes the doctor re-emerged from the room containing Arthur.

"We are still no closer to discovering the young man's identity," he informed the couple. "He is insistent that he is King Arthur,"

"Poor boy," Brenda tutted. Martin remained silent. He did not know how to react. Everything pointed to the same two possibilities. Either Arthur was who he claimed to be. But that was impossible. The other option was that the young man was indeed delusional. The second option seemed most likely. He couldn't help but notice, however, a slight niggle in the back of his mind. Something Martin couldn't quite put his finger on, but something he wanted to get to the bottom of.

He knew the boy lying in that room was nothing to do with him. Not really. But he had dragged him from the lake. Martin could feel himself getting emotionally invested. He was going to see this through to the end. Get Arthur the treatment he needed.

The doctor was speaking again. "We're going to perform a few tests. Then Arthur will be transferred to the psychiatric department while we assess his condition. I suggest you go home and get some rest Mr Tucker,"

Martin nodded. Thinking about it he was extremely tired.

"Thank you doctor" Brenda said. She took Martin by the arm and lead him down the corridor.

"Do you think he has any family?" she asked. "Someone should let them know where he is. Someone's got to be worrying about him,"

Martin shrugged. "I'm sure the hospital will figure something out," he thought briefly about the old man at the lake. Martin wondered why the man hadn't made an appearance at the hospital. Perhaps he would know if Arthur had any family. He'd have probably informed them by now.

While Martin was lost in his thoughts Brenda called a taxi. He found himself day dreaming throughout the journey home and the rest of the afternoon. Several times Brenda tried to snap Martin out of it, but he found his mind repetitively wondering back to the boy from the lake.

"This certainly has been an interesting anniversary," Brenda commented that evening as they climbed into bed.

"That it has," Martin replied.

"I hope you're not planning on making it a tradition," she joked.

Martin shook his head. After a few seconds he spoke again.

"I'm going to visit him tomorrow,"

"Are you sure that's wise?" Brenda asked.

"Maybe not. But the boy doesn't seem to have anyone. I want to be there,"

Brenda nodded. She knew that once Martin had set his mind to something he would make sure he followed through.

"Good night, Martin," she said before turning over.

"Sweet dreams," Martin replied. He closed his eyes and started drifting off into a world filled with adventurte; with Kings and Queens and with knights and sorcerers.

Finally Merlin arrived at the doors of the hospital. He took a second to survey the building. It dawned on him that he had no idea which part of the hospital Arthur would be in. He wandered inside, trying to determine where to start. Scanning the room, Merlin noticed a large reception desk. That would be his best bet. As he approached it, his stomach started performing somersaults. Doubts entered his mind. What if Arthur didn't recognise him? Or worse, what if Arthur remembered their last days together. What if Arthur resented Merlin for his magic? Resented him for keeping it a secret? What if Arthur thought him a monster? Another thought entered Merlin's mind making him stop dead in his tracks. What if it wasn't Arthur at all? Perhaps he'd seen a different blond haired, chain mail wearing young man being lifted into the ambulance.

Merlin sank into a chair. He ran his hands through his long silver-grey hair, wanting to tear it out. He dug his nails into the palms of his hand in an attempt to get his emotions under control. Taking deep breaths he stood again.

"Can I help you?" a pleasant looking woman smiled up at him from the reception desk.

"I think my friend was brought in earlier today?" Merlin's stomach flopped from side to side as he spoke.

"Sure. What name?"

Merlin was about to answer when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A door swung open and out came a nurse pushing a wheelchair. In the wheelchair was a dazed looking young man. He was wearing a flimsy looking hospital gown. Much different to the last time they had seen each other. Still there was no denying it. It was definitely the Arthur Pendragon that Merlin had known and served all that time ago.

Arthur's gaze fixed on Merlin. He looked confused. There was a slight look of recognition in Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur?" Merlin ventured. If he didn't say anything Arthur would disappear again. Already the nurse was retreating towards another set of doors.

Arthur turned towards Merlin "You look familiar," he whispered. His eyes slid across Merlin's face. He seemed unable to focus. It was only then that Merlin realised he was still in disguise. Of course Arthur was unlikely to recognise him like this; old and bearded and dressed in modern day clothing.

The nurse had not heard Merlin speak Arthur's name. She was halfway through the next set of doors. Merlin made a split second decision and charged after her.

"ARTHUR!" he yelled, afraid of losing his friend again after coming so close to being reunited.

The nurse stopped, looking slightly bemused.

Merlin caught himself. "I'm here to visit my friend," he said, gesturing at Arthur.

"I'm sorry, visiting times are over," the nurse said. "I'm just taking Arthur for some tests,"

"No, I need to see him!" Merlin said, perhaps a little more forcefully than was necessary.

"I'm sorry. You may return tomorrow. Visiting times are from two until four and then six until eight," she smiled, though there was no warmth in her eyes. Perhaps due to the way Merlin had just spoken to her. Again he berated himself. With that she began to wheel Arthur away once more.

Merlin stood and watched the pair disappear down the corridor. He contemplated using his magic to stop the nurse but decided against it. He did not want to stop Arthur getting the treatment he may need. Sure, Merlin may be able to heal him, but healing had never been one of his strengths.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Again, I would like to thank everyone for the positive response. I have most of this story planned out; it's just a case of putting things in the right order and typing everything up. It has turned out much darker than I originally planned. For that I __apologise__, but hopefully it will make the happy times that bit more rewarding. Thanks again to the people that left reviews, __favourited__ or followed. It really means a lot. Also my spell checker insists on reverting to English (U.S.) despite me being from the U.K. so I apologise for any inconsistent spellings I may have missed when editing._

_Anyway, I'll stop blabbering on and get to what you're all here for:_

Chapter 4.

Merlin was unsure how he'd managed to drag himself home. Despite seeing Arthur, the emptiness was back. A dark cloud had wrapped itself around Merlin. It engulfed him, leaving him flat and empty. He crawled into bed, in the process, knocking an empty vodka bottle from the night stand.

Merlin winced at the clatter it made but he didn't pick it up. He didn't have the energy. Somewhere in between getting home and flopping into bed Merlin had reversed the aging spell.

His joints no longer ached though he wished they did. At least then he would feel something other than the vast emptiness consuming his soul.

He buried his face in his pillow in an attempt to block everything out. The urge to scream built up inside him though he forced it back down. All this time he'd waited for the King to return. Waiting and waiting and finally beginning to accept that it wasn't meant to be. But now he'd glimpsed Arthur twice in one day only for him to be snatched away both times.

It hurt that Arthur had not known who he was though Merlin could hardly blame him. Arthur had seen Merlin in his disguise numerous times. It was only towards the end that Arthur had learnt his true identity. Plus Arthur had looked pretty out of it at the hospital. Once he regained his senses he would remember. As long as the doctors didn't manage to brainwash Arthur first. The thought made Merlin feel queasy. He screwed his eyes tight and tried to push the thought away.

At some point Merlin must have fallen into an uneasy sleep. In the back of his mind he knew he was dreaming but he could not drag himself to consciousness.

_Arthur was there. He was gagged and bound to a hard wooden chair. He strained against his restraints thought they did not give. There were angry red welts on his wrists where the straps cut into the skin .Panicking Merlin ran towards his friend. He was only a couple of feet away when Marlin collided with a glass wall blocking his path. Merlin banged on the glass in a futile attempt to get through. Arthur could not hear him. After what seemed like hours of pounding Merlin gave in. He focused all his remaining energy on directing his magic at the glass wall. He concentrated until he could focus no more. There was a tingling in his fingers where the power had gathered. He unleashed it in the direction of the glass, eyes squeezed shut. Eventually, he looked up. Nothing had happened. _

_No wait. Something had happened. Arthur had noticed Merlin though there was no recognition in his eyes. He was panicked, struggling even more than before. That look pierced Merlin's heart like a dagger. It was worse than the __realisation__ that his magic was useless. Merlin watched transfixed as a woman entered Arthur's room. She was dressed as a nurse and wore a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She glared at the wizard before turning her back to him. She produced a large syringe from her pocket._

Screams filled the room. Merlin's eyes snapped open and he sat up before he realised it was he that was screaming. He was covered in cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. His heart was pounding. His head was spinning. He felt sick.

Merlin sat on the edge of his bed pondering what to do next. He needed to see Arthur. It was far too early for visiting hours. Who knew what would happen if Merlin came bursting into the hospital at this time in a morning. But then again who knew what would happen if Merlin did not arrive before the doctors started their treatment.

As the war raged on inside his head Merlin's gaze fell onto the bottle on the floor. He picked it up and unscrewed the lid. He brought the bottle to his lips before realising there was nothing left inside. He threw the bottle to the opposite wall. It bounced off the wall and rolled away. _Typical_, Merlin thought. He couldn't even smash a bottle properly. He sighed and placed his head in his hands.

Arthur was in a daze. He had no idea what was going on. Everything about this place was so foreign and it was starting to freak him out. From the way people spoke to the clothes they wore to the decor. Everything was strange. It was an awful lot to take in.

A pretty woman had helped Arthur into a chair. A chair with wheels he realised with a jolt and pushed him to another room.

'I'm going to take you to another ward Arthur ' she explained. 'One where they are better equipped to help you,'

Arthur nodded though he didn't really understand what was happening. He was being pushed down a corridor in a chair with wheels. Maybe that was how royalty was treated in this part of the world.

The woman took Arthur through a pair of double doors.

'Arthur!' Someone called his name. Arthur turned to see them approaching. A hunched over old man with a tangled grey beard to match his long grey hair. He hobbled towards them. Arthur was unsure how the old man knew his name. He struggled to focus on the man's face, trying to place where he knew him from. There was something about him. Something in his eyes. There was a small familiar glint hidden somewhere underneath a mask of sadness. 'You look familiar' Arthur whispered.

The sadness in the familiar stranger's eyes seemed to intensify. For some reason Arthur felt the need to reach out and hug this man. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He was aware of the man and woman exchanging words but they washed over him. The next thing he knew, Arthur was being wheeled away once more.

The woman took Arthur to another room. It was more or less identical to the previous room he was in. Pristine and white. Minimal decor. He was helped into the bed. He wanted to protest but found his lungs burned when he pushed himself too much.

'You get some sleep. The doctor will be by in the morning to conduct some tests,'

Before Arthur could respond she had hurried out of the room. He flopped his head back onto the pillow. The image of the old man would not leave his mind. There was something about him. Eventually, Arthur drifted into a fitful sleep.

The following morning Arthur was awoken by Dr. Holden.

"Good morning, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked. There was what Arthur could only describe as an eager look in his eyes.

Arthur sat up slightly. His head was still clouded. It hurt to think too much and his muscles ached.

"Not my best," Arthur answered truthfully.

"Well you seem to be recovering well from your accident," the doctor told him.

Arthur nodded. He was aware now that he had been found floating in a lake with a lungful of water. Though he was completely stumped at how he had ended up there. It hurt his head to think too much about it. The place was already confusing enough without worrying about how he'd gotten there.

"However, we are concerned that there may be an… underlying condition," the doctor continued. There was a peculiar tone to his voice.

What was the man talking about? Arthur was as fit as a fiddle. He always had been. Besides the current dull ache in his head that was.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur protested. "I am fine,"

"We'd like to run some tests regardless. Just to be on the safe side,"

Arthur sighed, wondering whether he should comply. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could not quite explain. He wondered if Guinevere or Merlin had been alerted of his whereabouts yet.

"Where is my wife?" Arthur asked "and my manservant?"

The doctor paused for a fraction of a second. "I am working on contacting your next of kin. In the mean time I would like to run a few tests,"

There was something odd about the way the man spoke to him. His exterior had seemed warm and comforting, but underneath there was something that worried Arthur. The doctor seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. It was as if he was guarding a secret. Dr. Holden was certainly treading lightly for some reason. Perhaps it was because of his status, Arthur wondered. The doctor certainly wouldn't want to upset the King of Camelot. That was it. Arthur was used to people acting differently around him. It came with the territory of being a ruler.

"Do what you must," Arthur said finally.

Dr. Holden offered a warm smile. "Thank you. A nurse will come shortly to get a blood sample,"

"What?!" Arthur felt the colour drain from his face. They wanted to take his blood? Why in the world would they want to do that?

"Don't worry. It's only a slight prick. Just to make sure there's no… impurities," the doctor explained.

Arthur said nothing. He was not comforted by Dr. Holden's words. But the man was a doctor. He knew what he was doing, or at least Arthur hoped he did. Arthur leaned his head back on his pillow and mused to himself. This was certainly different to a trip to the court physician in Camelot.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: thank you once again for any feedback left on previous chapters. You have no idea how much it makes me smile. Merlin may be a little OOC in this chapter, depending how you view it but I think it illustrates the tough time he's been having without his bestest friend. Hope you enjoy the chapter. _

Chapter 5.

Arthur watched transfixed as the nurse prodded at the crook of his elbow. She chattered away happily, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Arthur did not have a clue what she was blabbering on about.

'Okay, you're just going to feel a sharp prick,' she explained in a voice that was much too cheerful. How could anyone be that happy as they were forcing small metal objects into people's bodies?

At the last second Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach was turning. He felt weak at the thought of the blood being sucked from his body. Images of his arm shriveling up as the ridiculously effervescent woman sucked it dry invaded his mind.

'All done' she announced suddenly in the same cheerful tone. 'Results will be through this afternoon,'

Merlin stood in the shower, forehead pressed against the cool tile. Scalding water was bouncing off his neck and cascading down his back. There was an anxious feeling swirling about in his stomach. He stood motionless, scared that if he moved he would empty the contents of his stomach onto his feet. The hot water helped, but only slightly.

He was nervous. How was Arthur going to react to seeing him? How much did Arthur remember? Did he remember Merlin's powers? And more importantly, if he did, did he resent him for them?

Merlin had thought he'd found Arthur once before. It had possibly been simultaneously the most elated, disappointed and confused he'd felt in the past thousand years.

_**He had woken up, a familiar pounding in his head. The world spun as he turned over, he felt like he was falling out of bed, though the soft mattress remained firmly underneath his body. After a few seconds his surroundings came into view. With a jolt, Merlin realised he was not in his own room. He cringed slightly as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. It was a blur. **_

_**This was not the first time Merlin had woken in the bed of a stranger. In fact it was becoming an increasingly common occurrence. He rolled over once more in an attempt to view whomever he had accompanied home last night. His heart stopped. No. It couldn't be. Could it? A mop of golden hair was poking out of the sheets.**_

_**Merlin caught his breath. What the fuck was he doing in bed with Arthur!? He couldn't comprehend it. **_

_**'Arthur?' He ventured, lightly touching the man's arm.**_

_**There was a groan as the golden-haired man turned over. 'Mmm... Who the fuck is Arthur?'**_

_**Merlin felt a great relief. That meant he hadn't completely lost it and gone to bed with Arthur. On the other hand, he could feel his heart shattering. The stranger was just that. He was a stranger; some random guy that just so happened to have the same colour hair as Arthur. Reality struck again. How could he be so stupid to think it was Arthur? The King was dead. He had been for centuries. Why in the world did Merlin expect to bump into him in some sweaty nightclub? **_

_**'I...err... I have to go,' Merlin muttered, peeling the somewhat sticky bed sheets away from his bare legs. **_

_**Not-Arthur stared at Merlin, dumbstruck. He looked like he might be offended. Merlin was aware how bad it looked. He hated seeing the hurt in Not-Arthur's eyes. But he couldn't stay here. This wasn't right. **_

_**'Nothing personal,' Merlin added as he scrambled about for his clothes. He felt sick. Sick and dirty and wrong. Why did he do this to himself?**_

_**Without giving Not-Arthur time to talk Merlin ran out of the building. As he ran, the contents of his stomach threatened to spill out. No sooner had he catapulted himself through the front door did the contents of his stomach go through with their threat. Merlin promptly threw up all over his shoes. **_

Merlin was jolted back to the present day as his stomach lurched at the memory. Shakily he turned the tap on the shower. He stepped out and went to brush his teeth. He ignored the towel rack, instead opting to let himself drip dry. He didn't care about the goose bumps sprouting up on his body. In a strange way he relished the discomfort it caused.

Eventually Merlin left the bathroom. He grabbed a pair of underwear and hastily pulled them on. In doing so, he nearly lost his balance. It was only then did he notice he was shaking though he could not tell if it was from the cold, being nervous or something else. He needed something to perk himself up. Preferably something that would help him to think straight. He needed to have a clear mind today.

He settled on a strong black coffee, drinking it down in quick gulps. He didn't think he could face anything to eat. The caffeine perked him up a little and Merlin finally set about getting dressed. He opted for his usual t-shirt, jeans and a light-coloured jacket. He took a look in the mirror, noting the dark circles around his eyes and his slightly too pale skin. He added the final touch: a red scarf. He looked almost the same as he always had done. Surely Arthur would recognise him now.

Leaving the bedsit during the day without that godforsaken disguise was slightly liberating Merlin noted. Though it was only by a miniscule fraction, he felt a little more positive.

Martin pulled on his jacket and shoes. He sat on the bottom of the stairs to tie his laces as he found he had to these days.

'Where are you going?' Brenda called from the living room, a small smile curling her lips. Martin was always getting into something. As long as that something wasn't trouble she didn't mind.

'I'm off to see Arthur,' Martin called back.

'His name isn't Arthur, dear. The boy is delusional,' Brenda replied. She felt sorry for the boy; washing up in a place where no one seemed to know who he was. Apparently he didn't even know who he was himself.

'What should I call him then?' Martin gave the small smirk he reserved for the very rare occasion when he knew he'd won an argument.

Brenda didn't answer. 'Just be careful,' she chided. 'I don't want you getting mixed up in anything weird,'

'Hate to say it, but I think I already am,' Martin mumbled. He was unsure whether Brenda had heard him as she didn't answer. She crossed the threshold into the hallway and gave him a peck on the cheek.

'Make sure you're back in time for dinner,'

Martin nodded and hurried out of the door, calling good bye over his shoulder. He strolled to a nearby bus stop and fished in his pocket for his bus pass.

The journey to the hospital was largely uneventful. He wondered what the boy's reaction would be to him. Sure, he knew it perhaps came across as a little strange. He was going to visit someone that he didn't even know. However, in his defence he had saved the boy's life. It was only natural that he wanted to see how he was getting on. Martin was jerked out of his thoughts by the bus pulling up at the hospital. He started to make his way to the psychiatric ward where he knew Arthur was now staying.

Dr Holden squinted at the notes for the patient insisting he was Arthur Pendragon. There was no denying that there was something going on in the young man's head that was causing delusions. It was possible he suffered from hallucinations as well, but that one was harder to monitor.

The obvious diagnosis would be one of some sort of mental health condition; schizophrenia or perhaps bipolar disorder though there didn't seem to be any other symptoms that matched with either condition. Of course delusions may be caused by other factors as well. It was for this reason he put Arthur through rigorous testing: various brain scanning techniques as well as several blood tests for underlying conditions before calling in the psychiatrist.

All of the tests however, had come back completely normal. He was as average as can be for any twenty-something year old male. Even mental health conditions tended to show some abnormality in the brain, but Arthur was, in his own words 'as fit as a fiddle,' There wasn't even any evidence of drugs; recreational or otherwise that may produce similar effects.

Dr Holden sighed. The patient really was a conundrum. There was, as far as he could tell, absolutely nothing wrong with the young man. There was nothing wrong with him apart from the fact that he believed himself to be the King of Camelot.

He made his way to the room in which the patient was staying. He was sat up in bed, wide eyed and examining his surroundings with a fascinated curiosity. At the sound of the doctor's footsteps, Arthur looked up.

"Have you got my results yet?" he asked, pulling his attention away from the machines around him.

"You will be pleased to know that everything is fine," Dr Holden said. He opened his mouth to continue but was abruptly cut off.

"Then why am I still here?" Arthur demanded. He was getting restless. There had still been no word from his wife, any of the knights or Merlin.

"We would like to keep you under observation. At least until the initial stress from your incident has worn off," Dr Holden explained. "We think you may be suffering some side effects from the stress,"

After all it was the only remaining rational explanation. Stress and trauma could do funny things to the mind. It was Dr Holden's hope that Arthur's delusions were a product of the trauma he had suffered the day before.

"I'm going to find someone that you can talk to. So we can fully assess the situation,"

"There's nothing to assess!" Arthur insisted. "I am absolutely fine. I think it's time for me to leave,"

With that, Arthur swung his legs off of the bed. He was a little unsteady on his feet. He was still sore and dizzy from the previous day but he desperately wanted to find out what was going on. The people here were hiding something from him and he was going to find out what.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Here it is! The chapter everyone has been waiting for. Thanks again for the positive response, it really means a lot. I'm really itching to know people's thoughts for this chapter. Hope you all enjoy!_

Chapter Six.

Arthur brushed past the doctor and stormed out of the door. He did not glance back over his shoulder to see the reaction. He was the King goddamn it. He did not have to stay cooped up in this unfamiliar place if he did not want to. Besides, they were definitely keeping something from him and Arthur was beginning to wonder if the doctor and everyone else here were as friendly as they were making out.

A worrying thought struck Arthur. What if he was being kept here while whoever owned this land invaded Camelot? Perhaps that was why no one would give him any information on the whereabouts of his friends. He did not like the thought of being invaded by any army, but the thought of an army from this place sent chills down his spine. He had seen so many strange artefacts and contraptions over the past day. He hated to think what kind of weapons they would possess. He was more or less certain some sort of sorcery would be involved. His army would be clueless when it came to defending themselves.

Arthur hobbled along the corridor as fast as he could. He turned this way and that, realising that he had no idea how to get out of this maze of a building. He came to a stop and spun around, trying to assess the situation. He realised that even upon escaping this building he had not been told where he actually was. At almost the same time, he realised that he had left all of his personal items behind; his sword and his chain mail were all still placed neatly in a small cupboard next to his bed.

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a pale green gown of some kind. It was extremely thin and to Arthur's sudden embarrassment, a bit more transparent than he would have liked. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt, just to sneak back and get his clothes. But then what if the doctor was there waiting for his return. Surely they must be counting on him returning for his things? What if they restrained him this time to prevent any more attempted escapes?

"Arthur?" A voice called out from down the corridor. He knew he had heard it before but he did not know where from.

"What are you doing, wondering about by yourself?" a friendly looking man was approaching at a surprisingly fast pace.

Arthur fixed the man with a questioning stare "Why shouldn't I be by myself?"

"I thought after yesterday's shock you would need as much rest as you can get," the old man explained. "Shall we get you back to your room?"

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

The old man smiled and let out a slight laugh. "How rude of me! The name's Martin Tucker. I'm the fella that dragged you out of that there lake,"

Arthur looked the man up and down. He looked far too old and unsteady to have been Arthur's rescuer. Arthur didn't comment. He had already realised that things in this place were much different to back home. Who was to say that this old man was not a hero? Martin clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder in a friendly fashion.

"Let's get you back to your room," he suggested and started steering Arthur back in the direction he'd come.

Arthur wanted to protest, but couldn't form the right words. He nodded slightly. After all he needed to go back for his belongings. They arrived back at Arthur's room to find Dr Holden standing outside.

"Ah, Arthur, you came back," the doctor gave a cheery smile before walking off.

Arthur fixed him with a steely glare; a look that did not go unnoticed by his companion. "That man is hiding something from me," Arthur announced.

"Whatever do you mean?" Martin asked as he guided Arthur back to his bed.

"Why are they keeping me here if they say I am completely healthy?" Arthur asked, pulling at the bed sheets. Martin had sunk into a pale green chair at the side of the bed.

"Just to be on the safe side," Martin said, "You nearly died,"

Arthur didn't reply. He didn't know what to say. There wasn't much to add. He just wanted to go home. He wanted Merlin to draw him a nice hot bath followed by an evening meal with his darling Guinevere. He just wanted things to be normal. In this place he had no control. It was daunting. It was like people didn't even know who he was.

After a fairly lengthy silence Martin spoke, "I wanted to see how you're feeling today,"

"I feel fine," Arthur replied. He was quiet a moment or two longer. "Thank you for rescuing me,"

Martin looked at his feet. "Oh, it was nothing,"

They lapsed into silence again.

"You have any family?" Martin tried to break the tension again.

"I am married," Arthur replied, thoughts drifting back to his wife. He wondered if she was worried about him. Where she was, what she was doing? Why hadn't she been in touch? Perhaps word had yet to reach her. Camelot might be several days away from here. It could easily be another week or more before he heard from anyone that he knew.

"Any children?" Martin asked.

Arthur shook his head.

"Me neither," Martin replied. He was fidgeting slightly and twiddling his fingers. A silence passed over the two again though it was only slightly uncomfortable.

"I need to go home," Arthur said. He wasn't sure if he had meant to say it or not. It was as if he was thinking out loud.

"Where is home?" Martin asked. He was eager to find out more information about the boy.

Before Arthur could answer, the door swung open. In the door way stood a tall, scrawny looking man. There was a determination in his eyes that Arthur knew only too well. "Merlin!?" He was overjoyed at the sight of his friend.

"Arthur! We need to get you out of here!"

Martin watched the scene in front of him. A boy, perhaps a few years younger than Arthur burst into the room. His gaze fixed on Arthur, there was a passion in his eyes. Martin heard Arthur gasp "Merlin!?" as the intruder shouted "Arthur! We need to get you out of here!"

Martin did not know how to react. This was who Arthur had asked for by the lake. He didn't look very much like Merlin from Arthurian legend, of that he was sure. Perhaps the name was some in-joke between the two friends. Martin studied the new arrival. There was something about the intruder. There was something in those panic-stricken eyes. He seemed strangely familiar.

He obviously hadn't noticed Martin in the corner of the room. At that moment in time, he had eyes only for Arthur. Arthur jumped out of bed, pulling open a small cupboard. Out spilled the armour Arthur had worn the day before. In one movement, he scooped it up into his arms.

"No time to worry about that!" Merlin shouted, attempting to drag Arthur out of the room.

Time seemed to freeze. Martin could not move. Even if he could he did not know what he would do. Suddenly, there was a voice from the doorway.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Merlin had opted to travel via bus. It still took quite a while but was much quicker than walking to the hospital. He tried to distract himself from the butterflies dancing within his stomach. He watched a teenager in the seat in front of him, ear buds in and tapping away on their phone. While Merlin was not a fan of modern technology, he had still had time to adjust to it. He wondered what Arthur would make of this new world and how everything had changed. Merlin smiled briefly at the thought of Arthur's puzzled expression. How in the world was he going to explain the situation to his friend?

He was sure he would think of something. He always did when Arthur was involved. The bus pulled up outside of the hospital and Merlin disembarked with a sort of giddy nervousness. He could tell, somehow, that he was close to Arthur. He didn't quite feel as empty as he had grown accustomed to. He wondered if Arthur ever felt the same way. He was unsure if it was his magic or if it was the fact that their destinies were intertwined. They would never truly feel whole as long as they were apart.

There was a sign outside the main entrance that detailed the whereabouts of each ward and suite. He studied it until he had memorised the route to the psychiatric ward. He set off walking again. For the first time in a long time Merlin felt... Well, he wouldn't exactly describe it as happy. But there was some sort of positivity there.

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the psychiatric ward. He walked in through the double doors and looked around. There were several rooms. Some, he could see through large windows in the side were occupied by several beds. Others, however, seemed to house only one patient at a time. Merlin took a deep breath and started down the corridor. He glanced in each window as he passed in search of Arthur. The feeling of anticipation was growing and with each room Merlin passed his breathing and footsteps became quicker. Before he knew it, he was at the end of the corridor. This was the last room. If Arthur was not in here, Merlin was back at square one.

He held his breath and took a peek through the window. Merlin's insides gave a jump; there he was. There was that familiar mop of golden hair. Arthur lay in a single bed, looking positively peculiar in a modern hospital gown. The sight was quite jarring. Merlin placed his hand on the doorknob. He drew in another deep breath. It was now or never. He swung the door open.

"Arthur! We need to get out of here!" he cried. Arthur's head shot up, eyes opened wide. He mouthed something, but Merlin did not hear what. He needed to get Arthur out of this place and quickly. There was no telling what would happen if he was caught.

After a moment, Arthur seemed to come to his senses. He jumped out of bed and pulled open a small cupboard. Out spilled Arthur's chain mail and sword.

"No time to worry about that!" Merlin said. He reached out for Arthur's arm to try to drag him along. Of course Arthur wanted to waste time by getting dressed. He wouldn't have realised how strange it would be to see a fully grown man running about in full chain mail. Then again, what would be stranger once they got outside; Chain mail or a hospital gown? Merlin chose not to dwell on the dilemma, pulling Arthur along behind him. He turned to face the door and ended up face to face with a stern looking doctor.

"Where do you think you're going?"


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I say this every chapter, but thank you again to everyone that has shown interest in this story. I cannot get over how many views chapter 6 had. Thanks especially to anyone that left a review. They mean a lot, particularly any constructive criticism. This chapter took me a little longer to write due to work commitments so I hope it is up to scratch. Hope you all enjoy!_

Chapter 7.

"Where do you think you're going?" The stern-faced doctor asked.

Merlin faltered. He didn't factor in getting caught this early on.

"Arthur was just going to the bathroom," Merlin replied.

"Was he really?" The doctor glanced towards a door towards the back of the room. It was obviously a private bathroom. For the first time Merlin noticed the other man in the room. He recognized him as the man he had spoken to at the lake. Merlin wondered what he was doing here. Before he had chance to think about it too much, the doctor was speaking again.

"Arthur has been identified as being a flight risk. Due to the nature of his condition, I believe it best if he remains under our observation," he was trying to show his authority, Merlin noted. It made him all the more determined to get Arthur out of this place before he was damaged beyond repair.

"As I have already told you, I am perfectly healthy," Arthur asserted.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. Hesitantly from the back of the room the other man spoke for the first time. "Perhaps we should leave that to the doctor to decide,"

Merlin glared in the direction of the old man. This was not helping. He knew the man knew no better but Merlin couldn't help but feel anger towards the man for hindering their progress. He was so close. One wrong move and he would lose Arthur all over again.

Merlin found himself improvising. "I know Arthur and his condition well. I believe that he will be perfectly comfortable and safe if he returns home with me,"

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"

"This is my Merlin, my manservant," Arthur announced before Merlin could speak. Merlin closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool. He had forgotten just how insufferable Arthur could be. Now really was not the time to be spouting lines like that, no matter how true they were.

The doctor turned to Merlin. "May we have a word outside?"

Merlin inclined his head and followed the doctor out of the room, leaving Arthur and the old man looking confused.

"Who are you really?" the doctor asked. "We cannot just let a patient in Arthur's condition wander off with unknown strangers, you understand?"

"I am a friend of Arthur's," Merlin answered. He decided to play along. It may be his best chance of getting Arthur out of this place.

"He refers to you as Merlin," the doctor stated. "You do not deny him. Why are you enabling Arthur's delusions?"

He could almost feel the cogs ticking as Merlin tried to invent something that was more believable than the truth. Cautiously he answered. "Unfortunately, I cannot correct him. My name is Merlin,"

"Your name is Merlin?" the doctor repeated, the disbelief was clear in his voice.

"That is what my mother named me," he chanced a small smile at the doctor. After all he was not lying. The doctor fixed Merlin with a stare. It was hard to tell whether he was buying this or not.

He could see Arthur from the corner of his eye, watching through the window. He wondered what the King made of this whole situation. He was wide-eyed and innocent looking; an expression Merlin had only seen on his face a handful of times. It hadn't taken much persuasion to get Arthur to leave the hospital. Slowly, a plan started to formulate in the back of Merlin's mind.

"I understand that Arthur needs treatment," he said. "I have been starting to struggle to take care of him. It is particularly difficult considering our names,"

"You should let us help," the doctor's voice had taken on a sympathetic tone. "I am going to refer Arthur for counselling,"

Merlin nodded. That was the last thing he wanted. They would brainwash Arthur. They would tell him his memories weren't real. And then who knew what would happen. "Thank you," he whispered, the words leaving a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

The doctor offered a small smile, obviously taken in my Merlin's performance. "Visiting finishes in half an hour," he said softly before walking away.

Merlin watched him leave, making sure he was out of sight before Merlin re-entered Arthur's room.

Arthur watched Merlin entered the room. His face was unreadable. Whereas before he had been panic-stricken and determined, now he seemed to be a blank slate. None of the men spoke. Arthur wondered what had been discussed outside, but he could not interpret Merlin's body language. He glanced over at Martin, who was looking down awkwardly at his feet.

"Mr Tucker, I thank you for your company. It is much appreciated, however I would like some time alone with Merlin," Arthur addressed the man. He did not want to offend the man. He had saved his life after all. However, Arthur got the impression that Merlin was holding something back. Holding back something that he would not discuss in front of strangers, no matter how trust worthy and heroic they were.

Martin inclined his head in a nod. "Brenda, my wife, will be starting to worry anyway. I will try to visit again soon," His tone seemed a little relieved that he was being dismissed.

"Thank you," Arthur said again as Martin left the room. He noticed Merlin sending sideways glanced as the man until he was out of the room.

"What on Earth is going on, Merlin?" Arthur snapped as soon as Martin had disappeared.

Merlin visibly sagged. He ran a hand through his hair and walked towards the chair that Martin had recently vacated. He grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to Arthur's bed before taking a seat and leaning forward.

"It is a long story," Merlin muttered. He appeared to be struggling to talk to Arthur. He was glancing around and rocking slightly. His hands were shaking in his lap. Arthur studied Merlin's face. There were dark circles around his eyes and his skin was even paler than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept for a week.

"Merlin, what is wrong? You look unwell," Arthur asked.

"I'm fine," Merlin answered, automatically. He was slightly taken aback by Arthur's concern. "We haven't got much time,"

"Then you better tell me quickly," Arthur instructed, not unkindly.

Merlin sighed again. "Tell me, Arthur. How much can you remember?"

Arthur cast his mind back. "I remember the battle," he ventured. "I remember being wounded. Mordred impaled me with his blade," Arthur pointed to the place just below his ribs where the blade had struck.

Merlin nodded his head, encouraging Arthur to go on. Arthur licked his lips. "Then I remember that I retaliated. I drew my blade and struck Mordred down," Arthur's voice cracked a little. He had liked Mordred but then the young knight had left and joined forces with Morgana. The betrayal, much like the wound in his side, still hurt.

"After that everything gets a little strange," Arthur admitted. Merlin had gone suddenly still, as if bracing himself for a killing blow. "I don't know how much of it is true,"

Arthur lapsed into silence. Merlin didn't respond. It was as if he was scared to look Arthur in the eye. Arthur drew another breath, "Merlin, I think I'm going mad,"

"What makes you say that?" Merlin's head snapped up and he fixed Arthur with an icy stare.

"I remember it plainly," Arthur said, his voice low, "but the only mark is a scar that must be years old,"

He lifted the hospital gown to reveal his side. There was a pale white line just underneath his ribcage where the blade must have entered. Merlin reached out, as if to touch the old wound but suddenly stopped as if thinking better of his actions. His hand fell idly to his side.

"What you remember is the truth," Merlin urged, suddenly leaning very close. His voice was no more than a whisper directly in Arthur's ear.

Arthur watched Merlin intently. "That is all I remember though. The next thing I remember is waking by the lake. Then I was here in this strange place,"

Merlin had gone oddly stiff again. Arthur did not know what to make of his manservant's behaviour. He had to admit, Merlin had always been a strange one. Merlin tugged slightly at his scarf before finally speaking again.

"Arthur, I need to leave soon. I will be back for you tomorrow. The people here have your best interests at heart but they are misguided," Merlin explained.

"What do you mean?"

"Now is not the time to explain," Merlin was whispering again. "Just promise me one thing,"

Arthur considered Merlin's request. Usually he would have replied with some retort about Merlin's status. Something about how Merlin should not be ordering him about but something about the man's tone made Arthur reconsider. "What is it?"

"Do not believe anything they try to tell you," With that Merlin stood. He returned the chair to its original place. "I will be back as soon as I can,"

Questions bubbled up inside Arthur but Merlin had already closed the door behind him before Arthur could call out again. Arthur's suspicions from before were confirmed. There was something going on. Something was being kept from him. The people here were not to be trusted. Of course, Arthur had already concluded that the doctor was not as trustworthy as he originally appeared. Did Merlin's warning stretch to others, such as seemingly kind-hearted Martin Tucker? He was unsure, but he knew from now on he was going to tread lightly even if he wasn't quite sure why.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you once again to everyone that has read, reviewed, followed or favourited this story. I apologise that this chapter has taken a little longer to get up than usual. Work has been hectic and I've been doing quite a lot of over time. I hope everyone enjoys chapter eight. Please remember to review (if you want to!)_

Chapter 8.

'How was he?'

To Martin's surprise, Brenda was waiting for him to return. She was sat in a seldom used armchair which was angled to have a view of the street in front of the house. In her lap was a cross-stitch. Martin smiled to himself as he noticed she had barely added any new stitches. He said nothing to give away that he knew that Brenda was only pretending to look busy.

'Same as yesterday,' Martin explained. 'Seems perfectly healthy. Just a little lost,'

He approached Brenda and enveloped her in his arms.

'It's such a shame,' Brenda said, not for the first time. Her fingers enclosed around Martin's giving them a tight squeeze.

'A friend of his showed up today,' Martin told his wife.

She smiled warmly. 'That's good news,'

'You'll never guess his name,' Martin smiled despite the memory of the young man's steely glare.

'Hmmm?'

'His name is Merlin,' Martin exclaimed. He was happy to know that Arthur was perhaps not as crazy as everyone originally thought. Though there was something about the way Merlin had stormed in that troubled Martin somewhat. As strange as things were now, he had a feeling he had only experienced the tip of the iceberg.

Merlin had returned home. Once more he was without Arthur but at least they had been finally reunited, even if they'd only had a couple of minutes together. Arthur knew who Merlin was and he was stubborn enough not to let the doctors convince him that he was crazy. The thing that worried Merlin the most was the prospect of having to explain to Arthur exactly what was going on. Merlin considered how exactly he was going to break the news to Arthur that he had, in fact, been dead for well over a thousand years. That during that time Merlin had never stopped waiting for him.

His hands shook as he took off his tan coloured jacket and hung it up. What would Arthur make of where Merlin lived now? How would he react to having to stay here? It was definitely nowhere near as grand as anything Arthur was used to.

Merlin lived in a single room. It was a kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one. There was a small bathroom off to one side but that was it. He cast an eye about, thinking how he really ought to tidy up if he was to bring Arthur here. Things were strewn across the floor; half read books, piles of laundry and dirty plates amongst other things. A dull feeling settled in Merlin's stomach and he realised that it was shame. He was ashamed of the state of his living area. There was no way Arthur would be willing to stay somewhere like this.

In the past Merlin had always made an effort to keep the bedsit fairly tidy. Obviously lived in, but never dirty. However, recently the empty feeling had grown so intense he hadn't been able to bring himself to do anything. He'd not even been able to flick his wrist and make the dishes clean themselves.

The mattress creaked as Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, contemplating where to start. His eyes fell on the empty bottle that he had thrown the previous night. This past day had so many emotional ups and downs; Merlin was unsure how he felt. He could not deny that he no longer felt as numb and the emptiness that plagued him seemed to be slowly shrinking away. Though he could not say he was happy yet. There were so many uncertainties surrounding Arthur that Merlin had transformed into a bag of nerves. He didn't know whether he preferred this or the cold, never ending numbness before. At least that didn't hurt.

Merlin found himself wishing that the bottle was not empty. He wanted just enough for a quick swallow to calm his nerves. Perhaps it would help steady this insistent shaking. He stood and picked up the bottle, putting it on the counter. There were several others scattered around. Merlin picked them up and lined them up on the counter. All were empty. Something about the sight of several empty glass bottles made Merlin's stomach flip. His breath hitched in his chest as the anxiety took over. He couldn't do this.

Suddenly desperate, Merlin flung himself at the fridge, wrenching the door open. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hand as he realised that there was nothing there. He yanked open each cupboard, tears swimming in his eyes as time and time again he came up empty. Of course he knew he would find nothing. It was only two nights prior that Merlin had poured all the foul stuff away in a fit of rage. He couldn't do that to himself anymore. He knew that. Especially now that Arthur was depending on him. He backed himself up against the wall as sobs threatened to spill over. What was he thinking?

His t-shirt rode up as Merlin slid down the wall. It was oddly cold on his bare skin but Merlin relished the feeling. The cold burn on his back brought Merlin to his senses, if only momentarily. He needed to pull himself together. He couldn't do this anymore. He had already decided that, even before he had known Arthur had returned. He leaned his head against the wall, resisting the urge to bang it and finally the tears spilled over.

Why he was crying, Merlin wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it was the fact that he had nearly lost control once more. Or that he still was not properly reunited with Arthur. The fact that he felt he'd let Arthur down yet again. His body heaved with great, wracking sobs. He grabbed at his knees, pulling them up to his chest. Sniffing and sobbing, Merlin wiped frantically at his face. His sleeve came away soiled with an unpleasant mixture of tears and snot. All the pent up emotions from the past centuries were finally spilling out.

He didn't know how long he had spent curled up on the floor. After what seemed like a lifetime, Merlin's breathing began to even out and the tears became less frequent. He sat up again slowly, feeling guilty for his outburst, but also slightly better now he'd managed to get it all out. He was just glad it had happened now and not when he had returned home with Arthur. He gave himself a few more minutes before standing shakily. He flipped the kettle on and busied himself making a strong black coffee. He could do with something to perk him up a little before he set about making the place somewhat presentable. It would never be fit for a King, but at least he could try to tidy up a little.

A couple of hours later Merlin had made the room as presentable as it was going to get. There were no longer any empty bottles in sight. All the plates had been washed, dried and stacked in the correct cupboards. The laundry had been folded and sorted into piles. Arthur probably still wouldn't be thrilled but at least it was liveable now. Something about having a clean living space made Merlin smile, however briefly. It was almost as if clearing the clutter in the bedsit had cleared away the clutter in his mind. In the back of his mind, dark thoughts still lingered but now they were somehow quieter than before. He knew Arthur's reactions to everything that had happened were not all going to be positive. The thought made him queasy but at least now Arthur was going to be less likely to berate him about his living conditions. It was one small worry off of Merlin's mind.

Not wanting to let his mind wonder too far, Merlin busied himself in his next task. If Arthur was going to blend in he would need some clothes to change in to. Neither a hospital gown nor chain mail were best suited to wondering about in modern day Britain. He was, after all, trying to convince people that Arthur was not clinically insane. Merlin routed through his drawers, knowing full well that most of his clothes would be a little snug on Arthur. In the end, he settled on a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, a plain t-shirt and a hooded top. Clothes that had always been a little baggy on Merlin and that had a little bit of extra give. He shoved them into a rucksack. As an afterthought, he also grabbed a pair of trainers, just in case.

After double checking that he had got everything, Merlin set the rucksack down by the door. He was eager to set off already. He wanted to put his plan into action but the sun had not yet set. It hung lazily in the sky, just above the horizon. It was taunting him. There was a pinkish-orange tint to the sky but it was not darkening fast enough for Merlin's liking. He did not know what to do. His hands were shaking again. The more he dwelled on what was to come, the more his stomach danced. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. He needed to stay calm.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I say it every time, but once again, a massive thank you for the responses to this fic so far. This chapter was written in quite a rush. I wanted to put something up before I'm off back to work. I have edited it several times, but I apologise if there's anything I've missed. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's something I've been looking forward to writing. _

Chapter 9.

It was one of those nights where no matter how hard he tried Arthur could not switch off. His eyes were heavy and his body ached for sleep but Arthur's mind was whirring. For the past several hours he had been replaying his meeting with Merlin. Analysing everything the servant had said. And more importantly everything he hadn't. The stony look on Merlin's face and the seriousness in his voice set Arthur on edge. If the usually smirking and quick-witted Merlin was being this serious, something was wrong.

He tossed and turned, squeezing his eyes tight in an effort to rid his mind of Merlin's serious expression. The background noise of people walking the corridor outside and the mysterious boops and beeps of this place did not help. Despite the previous comfort, the sheet suddenly felt very hot and itchy on his skin. He threw it aside but after a few seconds goose bumps sprouted on his skin. He had to face it; it was unlikely that he was going to get any sleep tonight.

There was a muffled banging coming from somewhere outside. It was a different noise to what Arthur had become accustomed to in this strange place. He did not know what to make of it. Perhaps people making as much noise as possible in the middle of the night were another quirk of this kingdom. That was yet another reason to get away from here as soon as possible, Arthur thought irritably. Arthur did not appreciate having his sleep disturbed. He chose to ignore the fact that he had been unable to sleep before the muffled banging had started.

Arthur was unsure of how much time had passed. The room was dark apart from a thin slither of light coming in underneath the door. The banging had started to grow louder now as if the perpetrator was edging ever closer to Arthur's room. His eyes fixed on the door, all thoughts of sleep completely lost. Maybe this was what Merlin had been so worried about. Maybe it was a monster that roamed the hallways at night, preying on unsuspecting visitors. Keeping his eyes trained on the door Arthur fumbled clumsily with the cabinet beside his bed. As quietly as he could, he pulled his sword out and held it before him in a defensive pose.

His heart was hammering in his ears, almost in time with the banging on the other side of the door. He waited with bated breath, bracing himself for what was coming next. His room was the last one in the corridor. It had to be coming for him. It took a second for Arthur to realise that the banging had stopped. The seconds slowed down as time itself seemed to stop. Painfully slowly, the door began to open with a quiet squeak. Arthur found himself tightening the grip on his sword. If he could have seen properly in the darkened room, he was sure that his knuckles would have turned white.

A beam of light fell into the room. Arthur was temporarily blinded after being accustomed to the dark for so long.

"Arthur?" a familiar voice whispered.

Arthur let out a laugh of relief. How could he have been so stupid to have thought he was in danger? He lowered his sword and shook his head. The figure shushed him and entered the room, closing the door behind him again.

"You're telling me to be quiet?" Arthur whispered. "I'm surprised you didn't wake the whole building with the racket you were making,"

Arthur saw the figure raise a hand and rub the back of its neck. He was positive that a sheepish grin was being directed at him, even if it was too dark to see.

"Merlin, what are you doing here?" Arthur asked.

"I'm breaking you out," was the response. Merlin strode across the room and took something off of his back. After a few seconds of rustling something was shoved into Arthur's arms. "Here put these on,"

Arthur tried to examine the material in his arms, but the lack of lighting made it near impossible. He deduced it was soft fabric of a dark colour. Arthur wondered where the clothes had come from. He would much prefer to put his own clothes on. Merlin was already collecting Arthur's possessions from the cabinet.

"You need to blend in," Merlin explained, as if reading Arthur's thoughts. "We can't alert people to your presence if we want to get out,"

Arthur sighed but complied, slipping into the clothes the best he could in the darkness. "They're a bit tight," Arthur grumbled through clenched teeth as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"Best I could do in the circumstances," Merlin whispered. Arthur thought he heard a smile in Merlin's voice.

Merlin watched the shadowy figure of Arthur struggle to put on the clothes that Merlin had provided. He couldn't help but smile to himself. Arthur stood awkwardly in front of Merlin in the ill-fitting clothes.

"Ready?" Merlin whispered. He could not believe he was doing this. Arthur nodded in his direction and the pair headed to the door.

Merlin held up his hand, signalling for Arthur to wait before opening the door. Closing his eyes, Merlin took a deep breath and concentrated, reaching out with his mind, trying to determine if there was anyone in the corridor.

"What are you waiting for?" Arthur snapped after a few seconds. Without answering, Merlin pushed the door open and stepped out.

Once out in the fully lit corridor, Merlin could feel Arthur's eyes on him. He glanced at the former King who was indeed staring at Merlin with an unreadable look on his face. Besides the clothes, Arthur looked exactly the same as he always had. Merlin fought the urge to pinch himself. This was just too surreal. But he knew he wasn't dreaming. After a minute, the pair walked slowly down the corridor. Arthur, uncharacteristically let Merlin lead, though he would tut or sigh every time Merlin did something that Arthur did not deem correct. Tentatively, Merlin let his mind explore the corridors ahead of them. He made sure there were no unnecessary obstacles, pulling Arthur into hiding places and ducking into empty rooms every time he sensed that they were not alone. Arthur watched Merlin curiously, the entire time, but did not voice any of his concerns. Merlin couldn't help but wonder what was going through Arthur's mind, but he pushed the thought away. It was something they would address when they got to somewhere safe.

There was a forest behind the hospital. If Merlin was careful they would be able to reach it without Arthur spotting the cars in the car park or the ambulances parked out front or anything else Merlin would struggle to explain to a panicking King. He thought if he could get Arthur into the trees, away from anything that would lead to too many questions, Merlin might be able to start explaining the situation.

Finding the exit had been surprisingly easy. Merlin had expected, at best, protests from Arthur. At worst, he'd expected to walk straight into an unfriendly doctor.

"Head for the trees," Merlin instructed, daring to speak up slightly now they were out in the open.

The pair walked for quite a while. A wave of nostalgia hit Merlin as he thought back to the countless times the two of them had fought their way through the trees in the past. After about half an hour, Arthur came to an abrupt stop. He fixed Merlin with a glare.

"Are you going to explain what is going on or not?"

Merlin grimaced slightly. He had to admit that he had been putting this off. But he knew there was no escaping this issue. They were in a slight clearing, big enough for the two of them to sit fairly comfortably. Hesitantly, Merlin sat on the ground and then patted the patch next to him for Arthur to join him.

"First of all, where are we?" Arthur asked as he took his place next to his servant. That was the question Merlin had perhaps been dreading the most, apart from the inevitable discussion about his magic. Merlin sighed. He opted for the truth.

"We are close to the lake of Avalon," Merlin said.

"That place is not like any I have ever seen near Avalon," Arthur said, gesturing in the direction that they had come from. "I was lead to believe that I was a long way from home,"

"A lot has changed since you were here last," Merlin fiddled with a loose piece of cotton on his sleeve.

"What do you mean? It was only the other day, the two of us were heading for the lake," Arthur was staring at Merlin again. There was a mixture of emotions in the man's eyes; fear and confusion being the most prominent.

"You were unconscious longer than you think," Merlin explained. This was it. He was going to have to tell Arthur what had happened. He inhaled deeply, avoiding Arthur's gaze. "Please don't freak out when I tell you," he said it quietly, but Arthur still heard him.

"That does not make me feel any better Merlin," Arthur said, his voice hardening. "Tell me what is going on,"

"It is a long story. You will have to bear with me," Merlin sighed again. He felt sick and Arthur's stare was certainly not helping.

"Merlin!"

"Well, you said you remember the battle. You remember what happened with Mordred?"

Arthur's hand flew to his side and he rubbed the area that Mordred's blade had penetrated. The expression on Arthur's face betrayed the emotional hurt that the memory caused. A split second later, the expression was gone, replaced by a stony, determined stare. "Tell me, Merlin,"

"I tried, Arthur. I tried to help you," Merlin mumbled. He was in danger of losing control again. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand.

"What are you going on about?" Arthur's voice was raised. It rang in Merlin's ears, echoing around his head. "Tell me!"

Merlin's breathing was becoming laboured. The world spun. He couldn't do this. All he could hear was Arthur's demanding voice ringing through the trees. He clenched his teeth, trying to block out the painful memories flashing through his mind. Arthur's hands were on him, shaking him. His face was in his, his lips were moving and noise was coming out but Merlin could no longer tell what he was saying. It was too much. He clamped his eyes shut and shoved Arthur away.

"You died Arthur! Mordred stabbed you and you died!" Merlin blurted it out before he could stop himself.

Then there was silence.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you once again for the response to previous chapters. I greatly appreciate any feedback. Hope you all enjoy Chapter 10! Let me know what you think :)_

Chapter Ten.

Arthur stared at Merlin. He was staring back, wide-eyed and pale-faced. The dark-haired man's jaw hung open. A mirror image of Arthur's expression he presumed. That was it. His servant had never been the most sensible man but now he had lost it.

"Don't be ridiculous Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin was shaking his head again. Arthur had never seen him like this. He didn't know what to make of it or how to comfort his friend.

"You died Arthur!" Merlin shouted again. "I tried to save you but I wasn't quick enough. I was late and... And..." He trailed off suddenly, averting his gaze from Arthur.

"And what?" Arthur ventured.

"You left me," he uttered it so softly Arthur was unsure if he'd actually heard it. Merlin never lost control of his emotions. Not to this extent.

"Merlin, you're being an idiot," Arthur said in an attempt to lighten the situation. "I can't have died. I'm stood right here," he shot a smile in Merlin's direction but it went ignored.

Merlin was running his hand through his hair. "You don't understand,"

"You're right. I don't," Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. He wondered briefly if Merlin was the one that had lost his mind. What he was saying definitely did not make sense.

Merlin was watching him again. "I know it seems ludicrous. But you need to hear me out,"

Arthur looked around. Whatever story Merlin had to tell was obviously important even if it was a load of rubbish. Arthur cast his mind back to the day of the battle. Memories were fragmented. The last clear memory was of Mordred's face. After that everything was a little hazy and dreamlike. Merlin was there, by his side. Like always. There were other things too, absurd things that did not make sense. Arthur presumed they were hallucinations, brought on by the pain and whatever concoction of herbs Merlin had used to dull it. Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his companion's voice.

"Mordred's blade was not ordinary. It was magical; forged in a dragon's breath. The only hope you had was to bathe in the waters of the lake. But I was too slow," his voice was low and serious. Arthur realised with a jolt that there were tears in Merlin's eyes. Merlin took a breath and continued. "But then again, you are not a normal man. It was prophesised that you would return once more to reunite the lands,"

Arthur bit back a retort about how ridiculous Merlin was being. There was something about the man's expression and his voice that told Arthur that this was not a laughing matter. If Merlin had finally lost his mind, Arthur needed to be careful.

"What happened to you?" Arthur probed.

Merlin shrugged. "I waited for you to return,"

Arthur couldn't help but snort. "Now I know you're making it up,"

Merlin's cool gaze cut Arthur's laugh short. "I know you don't believe me. I wouldn't either if I hadn't lived through it. You just need to know that since the battle of Camlann a lot has changed. That is why I am telling you now. So you don't do anything stupid,"

Arthur was slightly insulted by being called stupid but said nothing. It seemed that Merlin really did believe he was telling the truth. Merlin had spun some farfetched tails in his time. Arthur chose to ignore the little voice in the back of his head stating that though Merlin's tales were often farfetched they were also often true.

Getting Arthur home had been a hassle. Due to the time of night, not many people were about but Arthur kept spotting things that he wanted to investigate.

"There will be time for questions when we get home" Merlin had snapped several times throughout the journey. He knew Arthur did not believe a word Merlin had told him in the forest. Arthur was adamant that they had set foot in some far away land that embraced sorcery and therefore had access to all kinds of things that were not available in Camelot. Like a horseless carriage for example. Merlin had thrown caution to the wind and took Arthur in a taxi. Arthur was both excited and repulsed by the whole experience. He grumbled loudly about the speed they were travelling and upon reaching their destination fell out of the car looking rather green around the gills.

"What is this place?" Arthur asked, his eyes wide as they approached the tall building in which Merlin lived.

"This is where I live now," Merlin explained while tapping in the code to unlock the door. He could feel Arthur's questioning gaze on him once more. This was going to be every bit as difficult as he had imagined. Maybe even more so.

The pair ascended the stairs, Merlin ever so slightly in front. Arthur followed, his head turning this way and that as he tried to take everything in. Merlin knew that it was a lot for Arthur to take in. Not just the fact that Arthur had died and then miraculously came back to life centuries later. There was also the fact that Merlin was a powerful and immortal sorcerer which would obviously need addressing once Arthur accepted fact number one. The fact that Arthur, and by extension Merlin still had a destiny to complete. Not to mention how different everything was now. Time had marched on; their friends and families were gone. Virtually everything was different. There was no wonder Arthur was reluctant to accept the truth.

After several flights of stairs, Merlin turned down a corridor, coming to an abrupt stop in front of a door half way down. He fumbled in his pocket for a second before pulling out a key and unlocking it. He pushed the door open and stood aside, allowing Arthur to enter.

Arthur cast an eye around the room. It wasn't as grand as anything he was used to and it was certainly different to any room he'd ever stepped foot in. He supposed it would do for the time being.

"Make yourself at home," Merlin said, pulling the door closed behind them. Arthur found it hard to read Merlin's face. He did at the best of times; though Arthur often joked about his manservant being simple, he was aware there was an underlying complexity he could not begin to fathom. Merlin's lips formed a smile but there was no twinkle in his eye.

Arthur strode across the room and sat on the bed. "Where are you sleeping?" Realising it was the only one. Arthur pretended not to notice the light pink flush that crept up Merlin's ears.

"Err..." Merlin faltered. "I didn't think of that,"

"If you think for one second we're sharing a bed-"

"Who's being ridiculous now?" Merlin cut across Arthur's words. "I'll sleep on the settee,"

"Fine," Arthur huffed, folding his arms once more. Merlin was already rummaging through a nearby cupboard, pulling out an assortment of blankets.

"You should probably get some sleep. We will talk more in the morning," Merlin said, nodding towards the bed.

Wordlessly, Arthur climbed into bed. He didn't bother to remove the clothes that Merlin had loaned him. A comforting feeling had washed over him within the last few minutes. Despite still being highly confused, Arthur now felt warm and safe. Probably the soft blankets on Merlin's bed, he mused. Within moments, Arthur had drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Light snores were coming from the bed where Arthur lay. Merlin curled up on the settee, draped in blankets, watching the lump on the bed that was Arthur. Merlin could not fathom his emotions. He should have been happy that he was finally reunited with the Once and Future King and to an extent he was. He felt guilty for his earlier outburst, realising now that he could have handled better. He felt betrayed and upset that Arthur did not believe him, but then again when did Arthur ever believe him? There was also the anxiety that constantly fluttered in Merlin's stomach, anticipating the conversation they would have in the morning. Even if Arthur did accept the truth, where would they go from there?

He screwed his eyes shut, attempting to block out everything. Block out Arthur's snoring, the first rays of sunlight that were persistently shining through the thin curtain and most of all Merlin's own thoughts. Absent-mindedly, Merlin ran his thumb across the scars marking his wrists. Would Arthur have come back, if Merlin had succeeded in his attempts to die? It wasn't worth thinking about now. What mattered was that they were both here, now. Together.

Martin followed the now familiar route to Arthur's hospital room. In his hand, he carried a small box of chocolates; a get well soon present. It had been Brenda's idea. Martin had nodded and smiled, thinking that the young man may appreciate the small token. It was something to show that someone cared. Even if he was still just a random stranger that had been in the right place at the right time. He arrived at the door at the end of the corridor and pushed it open slightly. He popped his head around the corner, beaming. The smile slowly faded from his face as he realised that Arthur's bed was no longer occupied. Instead a nurse was busy tucking clean sheets into place.

"Where's Arthur?" Martin asked, trying to keep his voice soft.

The nurse shrugged. "It seems he discharged himself in the night,"

Martin sighed, remembering the events of the day before. The strange man named Merlin and his urgency to get Arthur out of the hospital.

"Thank you," Martin muttered and turned away.

Something strange was definitely going on with Arthur and his friend. There was something that just didn't quite fit. It left Martin with an uneasy feeling. Worst of all was that the hospital staff did not seem to care. Now Arthur was off of the property, he was no longer their problem.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Hello everybody. Yet again, I want to thank anyone that has reviewed, added to favourites or followed this story. It really means a lot. I apologise that it has taken me longer than usual to type this chapter. Work has been hectic and I have been incredibly tried. I hope that means this chapter isn't too terrible. Anyway, I'll stop rambling again. Hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 11.

Merlin needed a drink. The sleeping form of Arthur in the corner brought so many conflicting emotions; sprawled across Merlin's bed resembling some weird starfish/ octopus hybrid. First of all Merlin was annoyed that Arthur had stolen his bed without so much as a second thought for his saviour. Though Merlin had to admit that he ought to have expected that type of behaviour from Arthur Pendragon.

Secondly, Merlin was elated that he had finally been reunited with his King. Surely this meant that his life had purpose once more and that he was rid of the empty hollowness that had consumed Merlin for almost as long as he could remember.

The third emotion however, cancelled out the positivity leaving a strange dead weight in the pit of Merlin's stomach. It was more a group of emotions balled into one; anger, frustration and sadness that Arthur was not willing to accept the truth. That Arthur-the prat he was-never accepted what Merlin had to say. Some part of Merlin's brain wondered why he bothered.

In conclusion, Merlin's body was screaming for the only way that it knew how to cope. That bitter liquid that burned his throat and fogged his mind and somehow, if only temporarily, filled the void that was Merlin's existence.

Over the years, Merlin had discovered that the occasional drink or two had helped to dull the pain. It somehow filled the hole that was in his chest. Merlin had indulged himself every now and then when he couldn't cope. Eventually, one or two drinks every so often had turned into one or two drinks every night. His tolerance level began to build up and it took more and more to fill the gap. Before Merlin knew what was happening, he found himself wasted every night. He found himself frequenting sweaty clubs, rubbing up against strangers. It was completely unlike the Merlin he once was. At times he disgusted himself but most of the time he didn't have the energy to care. Gauis' default explanation '_he's in the tavern' _developed a certain irony.

It became increasingly common for Merlin to wake up with no recollection of the night before feeling extremely sorry for himself. The nightmares still plagued him. He would wake drenched in sweat, tears and miscellaneous other bodily fluids. Usually they were his own but on more than one occasion the sticky sheets belonged to a complete stranger. Merlin cringed as he remembered Not-Arthur and the countless others he had completely freaked out on. Then he's be gripped by a pounding headache and a churning stomach. Merlin may be immortal but he still felt pain. Physical pain however was outweighed by the emotional. Every morning the soul crushing emptiness would hit him. It would cripple him until yet again, Merlin would reach for the bottle.

Merlin felt sick. His whole body seemed to be shaking. He could not let himself get back into that state again, no matter how much his body craved it. Arthur needed him now more than ever. Eventually, Merlin fell into a light sleep. Despite his dark thoughts before falling to sleep, it was the first night in a long time that he was free from nightmares.

When Martin had returned home, Brenda had taken one look at him and determined something was wrong.

"I'm worried about him," he admitted as his wife brought him a cup of tea. "They didn't care. Just said he'd discharged himself in the night and carried on with her job without a second thought for another person's well being,"

"They couldn't keep him against his will," Brenda said softly.

"I know. I'm just worried. I don't want him to end up in that lake again. No one even knows how he got there,"

Brenda nodded and gripped her husband's hand. She tried to understand how Martin was feeling. He had saved the boy's life only for him to go missing. The doctors had been worried enough about his mental state to try to keep Arthur in the hospital. But as soon as he'd vanished, they did not care anymore. Just another number. At least that is what it looked like to anyone on the outside.

She drained her own mug and tried to offer a reassuring smile. It seemed there was not much they could do to help Arthur now. Martin, however, was commited.

Brenda stood to take the empty mugs into the kitchen.

"There's something off about the whole situation," Martin said as she reached the door frame. "

She sighed, knowing Martin would not give in while he was in this mood. He was going to start playing detective once again. She just hoped he wouldn't get himself wrapped up in anything dangerous. The thought had entered her mind, seemingly from nowhere. The situation was strange, there was no denying that. But she hesitated to say Arthur was dangerous.

When Arthur awoke, it took him a few minutes to realise where he was. Even after taking in his surroundings, he wasn't entirely sure. Merlin had said this was where he lived now but that didn't make sense. Arthur found it hard to believe that he had been unconscious long enough for Merlin to move away from Camelot. He found it hard to believe that Merlin would ever leave Gaius behind. Absently, Arthur rubbed at the scar beneath his ribcage. Nothing made sense anymore.

Arthur's eyes fell onto the sleeping form of Merlin across the room. His mouth was hanging open, one arm dangling onto the floor and hair stuck up in every direction. Arthur gave a small cough, causing Merlin to shoot up, looking about wildly. His eyes settled on Arthur and his face instantly relaxed.

Without speaking, Merlin strode towards the cupboards in the opposite corner of the room. He flung several doors open, taking out two bowls and an assortment of other objects that Arthur did not recognise. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Merlin was avoiding his gaze. The other man's shoulders were hunched over as he busied himself in his task.

Arthur was just about to open his mouth to speak when Merlin whirled around, bowl in hand.

"I don't have much food. This will have to do," Merlin said, pushing a bowl into Arthur's hand.

Arthur started at the mush before him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't like anything Merlin had ever tried to feed him before.

"It's not poison," Merlin said, a small smile appearing on his face. "Eat up; you're going to need your strength today,"

"Are you finally going to explain what on earth is going on?" Arthur asked.

Merlin suddenly became very still. "Arthur…"

Arthur pushed the mush round the bowl, his brow furrowed. He waited for Merlin to continue for several long seconds. Upon looking up, he came face to face with a pair of sad blue eyes fixed on him.

"I do not know what else to tell you," Merlin breathed finally. "What I said last night was the truth. I perhaps could have found a better way to tell you but I meant what I said,"

Arthur sighed. He didn't know if he had the energy for this again. Somehow Merlin was convinced that Arthur was dead. Arthur could not comprehend how it could possibly be true.

"Merlin, if I had indeed died as you say, why would I be here now?" Arthur asked, perhaps a little more harshly than he should have.

"I don't know Arthur," Merlin sounded defeated. "I don't know how this works. I only know what Kilgharrah told me,"

"Kilgharrah?"

"Never mind. Just eat your breakfast. We need to go out,"

Arthur ate the food that Merlin had provided in silence. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, though it was fairly soggy. While Arthur was eating, Merlin had provided a fresh pair of clothes. Again, they were a little too tight, but they would do. As soon as Arthur was dressed, he found himself being pushed out of the door.

Arthur followed Merlin for about ten minutes, biting back both complaints and questions about their surroundings. He tried to wrap his head around what was going on. There were more of those horseless carts, zooming past at an alarming speed. Arthur felt uneasy at the amount of blatant magic that was being used around him. He tried not to think about it.

"Where are we going?" Arthur asked. He wanted to understand what was going on. He also wanted to start a conversation. Merlin was being unusually quiet.

"I'm taking you to Avalon,"


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Hello everybody! Again, it has taken me a while to write up this chapter. Sorry for the wait :(. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please remember to leave constructive criticism if there's anything you want to say. Thank you to everyone that has read/reviewed/favourite/followed so far! _

Chapter 12.

It was worth a shot. He had no idea if it would work. Merlin felt that he was perhaps clutching at straws. But maybe visiting a familiar place would help Arthur to accept how much time had passed. The lake, of course, had changed a fair amount since Arthur had previously visited. Not counting recent unconscious adventures. The lake was still recognisable, despite the additions of numerous footpaths, picnic areas and a small children's playground.

Merlin could still sense the hum of magic in the air, though it was much weaker than it had been a thousand years ago. Of course, he doubted that Arthur would sense anything of the sort. It was purely the visual cues that Merlin thought may have an impact.

There was a light tickle on Merlin's skin as they got nearer to the lake. He could sense the power bubbling up in the water before them and filling the air. Merlin often wondered if the magic in the air was responding to his presence. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly nostalgic Merlin wondered if the buzzing around him was not only that of magic, but of something else. Destiny, perhaps? The two powers were likely intertwined.

The pair reached the edge of like lake. Merlin's stomach was twisting in knots out of a cruel mixture of excitement, aprehention and nerves. He chanced a glance at his companion; Arthur's brow was furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to figure something out. However, he did not speak. Merlin had noticed that since Arthur's return, rather uncharacteristically the King had stopped speaking his mind. Instead he would cast glances at his friend, lips tightly sealed. Merlin got the impression that Arthur was unsure and confused. Perhaps even a little scared. Arthur knew there was something wrong; he wasn't completely stupid. Even if he was stupid enough to doubt Merlin's explanations.

Merlin plonked himself on the grass, gesturing for Arthur to do the same. He then peeled off his shoes and socks, dipping his toes into the cool water. There was something strangely threaputic about the gentle ripples tickling his feet.

"Have we been here before?" Arthur asked. His voice was quiet and there was a hint of uncertainty there. In that moment Merlin wanted nothing more than to grab hold of Arthur, to envelope him in his arms and promise that everything would be alright. He stopped himself, knowing Arthur would not appreciate the sudden physical contact. No matter how young and vulnerable he looked. Merlin noted that Arthur had opted not to dangle his toes in the water, instead drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself.

"Yes, we have," Merlin answered, carefully. He waited for a response from Arthur, who was doing his best to conceal his thoughts. "This is the lake of Avalon. It is where we came to lay Elyan to rest," Merlin explained. He could feel the tears threatening to cloud his vision. Again, Arthur did not speak. Merlin wished desperately that he would. Then he might know better how to approach the situation.

Merlin took a deep breath and spoke again. "This is where you washed ashore the other day,"

The crease on Arthur's brow deepened, if that was possible.

"How did I end up here?"

Merlin bit his lip, wondering how to phrase the next bit. "This is where I brought you after you died. I think your spirit stayed in the water until it was time for you to come back,"

Arthur eyed Merlin, appearing to be thinking hard.

Merlin sighed and looked down. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish you would believe me,"

"I wish I could believe you Merlin," Arthur replied after a while. "It is all so far fetched. I believe that you believe that is what happened. But there has to be a plausible explanation. Enchantments, sorcery, madness, whatever. This lake is familiar, but it is not the Avalon that I know,"

Merlin didn't know how to respond. It wasn't the result he wanted, but at least Arthur was acknowledging that something was going on. Even if he was still unwilling to believe the truth, he was slowly coming around. With Arthur, disbelieving the truth often seemed to be the case and it always happened at the worst times.

Like the time that Merlin warned Arthur about being respectful towards the Disir's layer. Or, Merlin thought with a pang, the many times Merlin had warned Arthur about trusting Mordred. It was typical Arthur. Merlin just needed to figure out what would be evidence enough to snap the pompous prat out of it this time. The trouble was, Arthur would not listen until it was too late. He would not listen until things started going wrong and he desperately needed to fix them.

Merlin fought the urge to press his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he was overwhelmed by thoughts of how Arthur never believed him, never trusted him. He wondered really why he still put up with the royal prat.

As the thought crossed his mind, Merlin cast a sideways glance at Arthur, seeing the pain and confusion in his eyes. Merlin sighed. Of course he knew why he had stayed by Arthur for all of these years. Besides, Merlin thought to himself with a smile, without the warlock, Arthur would never be able to dress himself in the morning. The poor man would barely be able to survive, particularly in this harsh modern world.

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice calling out.

"Arthur is that you?"

Merlin wondered who on earth it could be. There should be no one alive that recognised Arthur. Unless it was someone from the hospital, but they saw dozens of people everyday. It was unlikely any of the nurses would recall him, unless hed made that much of an impression. Merlin did have to admit that Arthur did sometimes have that effect on people. Judging by Arthur's puzzled expression, he was also struggling to place the owner of the voice.

A woman was approaching the pair; her lined face had broken into a large smile. Whoever she was, she was obviously happy to have stumbled across Arthur. Her light grey hair was pulled into a bun on the back of her head; a few tendrils had managed to escape and were dancing lazily in the breeze. As she came to a stop before the two young men, she must have finally registered the blank looks they were both giving her as her smile faded a little.

"It is Arthur, isn't it?" she spoke again. Merlin looked between the woman and Arthur to see the latter giving a small nod. She continued "My name is Brenda. I am Martin's wife,"

Arthur gave a small smile and got to his face. "Ah, Mrs Tucker. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Please give my thanks to your husband once again,"

Merlin found himself rolling his eyes at Arthur's behaviour. Forever the charmer, even when seconds ago a silent war had been raging inside his head. Hesitantly, Merlin also clambered to his feet, eyes still flickering between Arthur and Brenda Tucker.

"Martin has been ever so worried about you," Brenda said, her voice small.

Arthur looked down at his feet for a second. "I am sorry about that. Please assure him that he has no reason to worry. I am in safe hands now," with that, he cast a quick look at Merlin, who couldn't stop the wide grin that had spread across his face. Even if Arthur did not trust Merlin's version of events, he still trusted the man to take care of him.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?" Brenda asked. "You should come over for dinner tonight,"

Brenda's request was met by silence. Merlin wished he could read Arthur's mind. He wondered if it would be a good idea. Would Arthur become too overwhelmed? Merlin seriously doubted that Arthur would be able to keep up conversation for long. Within minutes of their arrival, they would probably be threatening to cart Arthur back to the psychiatric ward.

"That would be lovely," Arthur replied after a few seconds. "Thank you for the invitation,"

Merlin cringed. Oh dear.

"That's sorted then. Make sure you bring your friend," Brenda beamed, looking Merlin up and down.

"This is Merlin," Arthur said. Thankfully, this time he left of the part about Merlin being his manservant. Merlin cast a grin in Brenda's direction, though he was sure the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ah, the infamous Merlin," Brenda smiled before rattling off the address of the Tucker household. Merlin chose to ignore the comment, instead trying to commit the address to memory.

"Thank you for the invitation," Merlin said and with that the woman was off on her way. Merlin cast a glance at Arthur who had sat back down on the grass. He was smiling slightly, apparently his troubles temporarily banished from his mind. Merlin sighed and joined him. He could only hope that in the hours approaching their visit, he could attempt to brief Arthur on just how different things may be.


End file.
